


All Intents and Purposes

by Damien_Reid



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Involuntary Relationship?, Light Smut, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Spoilers!, Topping from the Bottom, alpha!Scott, beta!derek, inner turmoil
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-06
Updated: 2013-11-10
Packaged: 2017-12-31 16:28:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1033845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Damien_Reid/pseuds/Damien_Reid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek has always wanted Scott and Scott has never wanted Derek...At least, that's what Derek thinks.<br/>But maybe there's more to it?</p><p> </p><p>(I do so love Derek...I just a little bit want to ruin his life, am I cruel?)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Making The First Move

The first time it happens, Derek is too high on fear and grief and adrenaline and who-knows-what to question it. There’s no time and too many variables and no right answers. Scott is ice cool moving towards Derek, eyes a challenge, one hand raised: Derek braces for a fight. Scott moves closer…

And Derek freezes.

Scott’s fingers are a whisper across the skin of Derek’s jaw and the back of his neck. He’s caught in the air between them, feeling like the beta to Scott’s alpha, and it’s too natural— too right. Derek is helpless against this—against everything that’s been bubbling up between them since that first morning in the woods; he’s never felt this before, doesn’t have a defense against it.

Derek’s not breathing and can’t for the life of him understand how Scott is so calm, how his hands aren’t shaking and his heart isn’t racing. Scott just closes his eyes, possibly oblivious to the inner turmoil he’s creating, and puts his lips to Derek’s.

The hand on his neck moves to his hair, the other, trailing down his chest and slipping under his shirt; Derek can’t fathom how he’s still standing with his knees so weak. It’s suffocating and maddening and unbearably hot, devouring him like quicksand. He wants to push Scott away, tell him to go and never come back, but he can’t.

It feels too good and he wants it too much and he doesn’t want it to end, but it has to. He can’t give Scott the parts of him that he wants to, he can’t let Scott get too close, know too much, mean too much—

But if Scott asked, if _this_ was Scott asking, how could he ever say no?

He couldn’t.

And he doesn’t have to, because _that_ isn’t what _this_ is.

Scott pulls Derek closer, presses harder, lines them up perfectly so there’s no space, nowhere to run.

It’s good, so good, but it hurts too. It feels like drowning, feels like Scott is taking everything from him, razing him like flames.

Scott keeps going, tooth and claw, drawing the feeling deep into his own skin, leaving long deep lines in the tender flesh of Derek’s back. When he has what he wants, he takes a deep breath and a step back, resting his forehead on Derek’s shoulder for just a second…and then he straightens and walks away.

Derek just stands, dazed and conflicted, torn between chasing after Scott and slamming the door shut, watching him walk away.


	2. Playing with Food

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *shrug shrug*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not really sure where I'm going with this yet...  
> but you asked for it!  
> :P

The next time they meet Scott acts like nothing happened, like Derek didn’t spend the last week tripping over his own feet, distracted by his daydreams and his memories like a teenage girl. Scott never mentions the kiss and Derek doesn’t know how.

He wants to know what it meant, if it even meant anything at all, or if it was just a stupid prank to throw him off, or some lost bet with Stiles. It could be so many things and he isn’t sure which answer he’s actually hoping for, so maybe it should just stay a question. He’s so confused he wants to scream, hit someone, break something. He wishes it hadn’t happened, wishes he could forget, wishes it would happen again…

They’re constantly surrounded by their ragtag group of allies and by the time Derek gets Scott alone he can’t see straight. So much has happened so fast and a whole two days has gone and how does he even start a conversation like this? He can’t so he doesn’t.

He goes upstairs and lays in his bed and listens as everyone leaves, he assumes Scott’s gone too. He’s wrong (he’s wrong a lot, really).

It’s late, maybe midnight or so, and he’s just so exhausted. For once he isn’t thinking about Scott (in any context); instead he watches the ceiling, too tired to move and too wired to sleep. He’s half in the haze, eyes shut, when Scott starts up the stairs, scenting him out. The house creeks with every step and it’s a strange sort of soothing, that sound, plus a bit of tempered anticipation because, well, **Scott**.

He inhales as much as possible, preparing for the lecture or the accusation he’s so sure is coming.

He’s decided the kiss either didn’t mean anything or didn’t mean enough to warrant Scott’s remembering, so he’s more than a little surprised by what happens next.

He feels Scott approach the bed: one step, another, another— all completely silent.

Derek’s legs are bent at the knee, falling over the edge of the mattress, meeting Scott’s as he makes his advance. A thrill shoots up his spine and he swallows the sudden dryness in his throat as Scott’s own knees come up, pressing along the outsides of his thighs, straddling him.

He squeezes his eyes shut tighter. It’s nonsense but he hasn’t the courage to meet Scott’s gaze, afraid he’ll see something there that breaks him. The bed dips and the sheets pull taught as Scott leans forward, a hand on either side of Derek’s head, making him sink in a little. Derek captures and releases little puffs of air through his nose— just enough oxygen to keep him alive— and still, he can’t open his eyes. Scott is deadly quiet and cold calm, mouth inching closer and closer to Derek’s.

The air between them is electric and Derek is shaking, excited and terrified in equal measure, of everything they could and might never become. He’s scared of how much Scott already means to him, of how badly he needs Scott—more than he ever felt for Kate and look how well that ended. There’s a voice screaming out from his ever broken heart, saying he _can_ trust Scott, that Scott would be well worth the risks— but there’s another voice telling him to run, not ready to be hurt again, still raw with grief. He can’t, despite all the proof, bring himself to _trust_ Scott, to trust that he’ll good enough for him.

Scott stops just a hair away from Derek’s lips and Derek can feel it, the slow burn of a cruel tease. He can taste the challenge and knows Scott knows, it’s the waiting that hurts the most.

“Derek.” Scott’s voice is thunder in the quiet of Derek’s home, not a soul for miles in any direction and it’s almost enough to make him forget. Forget that they aren’t alone in the world, they aren’t safe.

“Derek.” Scott repeats, careful to avoid brushing across Derek’s lips. It’s a spark, enough to make Derek say ‘fuck it’ to everything that could go wrong, take Scott away from him or him from Scott…everything but Scott himself.

Derek opens his eyes and takes the dare.

He lifts himself up and pulls Scott down at the same time. His hands are on Scott’s hips and they’re grinding together, clashing and tangling. He flips them over, dragging Scott up the bed as he goes, thinking it’s the sweetest decent into madness he’s ever tasted.

There’s a sun burning between them and it’s going too far too fast but, Derek can’t bring himself to stop it, doesn’t have the strength. Scott is going to hurt him, intentional or not, and it’s a solid fact—but for just one night, it doesn’t matter. Derek’s through thinking.

That’s why he doesn’t remember.

Doesn’t remember when clothes started coming off or where they ended up, doesn’t remember looking into Scott’s red eyes with gold ones, doesn’t remember nosing Scott’s throat and saying things he shouldn’t, and he certainly doesn’t remember the words Scott whispered into the dip of his collarbone before getting up and walking away.

No, all Derek remembers is the hot slide of skin on skin and waking up to empty sheets in a cold room.

Derek may not have been thinking but Scott never stopped. He wasn't some stupid kid, he knew what he was doing and what risks he was taking. He knew what to ask and when, knew what to say and knew how much of it Derek would hear, knew when to chase and when to retreat…

Bottom line: Scott knew how to win. This thing between them wasn't war anymore, it was seduction, it was...corruption.

Who knew chess was such a dangerous game?


	3. A Sudden Stop

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a short in-between bit featuring the lovely Mr. Sharman.

It goes on like this for a few months, keeps happening— abrupt and unacknowledged— over as soon as it starts. They never talk about it and Derek is getting harder and harder to surprise. He's getting used to it, comfortable with whatever unspoken arrangement they have...

and then it stops.

They treat each other like always but Scott never makes a move. Derek goes out of his way to get them alone— and still— **nothing**. After just two weeks he starts to twitch. He feels like an addict and withdrawal is a hard hitter. It's a constant, squirming itch under his skin and he wants to reach out, wants to take Scott against the wall and shove him into bed, but he doesn't know if he can, if his advance would be welcome. He’s been aggressive with Scott in the past and all it got him was his face on a wanted poster...

He doesn't know why Scott stopped or what made him start in the first place, he's simply lost. He watches Scott from the corner of his eye and waits. He makes excuses to get his shirt off, he's careful to brush against Scott when he passes, he wears tighter jeans and lingers in Scott's space. He even goes so far as to be nicer to Stiles (not _nice_ nice but less un-nice). He does everything he can think of to get Scott's attention, short of throwing himself (literally) at him.

Scott doesn't react, doesn't even seem to notice.

The frustration becomes palpable and he starts to take it out on the people around him, never where Scott could see but always after Scott leaves. The second the coast clears, Derek becomes a vicious attack dog. He snarls and scrapes and becomes incapable of civil conversation. He's burning apart and people start to notice.

 

 

 

"Dude, Derek, what's up?" Isaac whinges, apropos of nothing one day.

"Up is a direction, Isaac. What do you want?" He responds, ignoring the 'dude'.

"Nothing, sheesh. I just wanted to talk." The beta says, flopping down onto Derek’s sofa (nearly the sole piece of usable furniture in his whole flat).

"About?" Derek huffs, a slight tick in his jaw.

"You. What's going on with you?" Isaac blinks. Stupid pup.

"Well, I don't know. Maybe, I'm worried about the alpha pack that’s trying to kill us."

"Well, yeah. But this started before that." He clarifies, making... some kind of motion in the air with his hand. He really needs to stop hanging around with Stiles.

"What did?" Derek sighs.

"You. Acting all weird. You keep snapping and sometimes you smell funny." He scrunches his nose involuntarily (Allison thinks it’s adorable when they all do that).

"What?" Derek gulps, eyes widening against his will.

"Your smell. It's weird. Sometimes it's a little like Scott but other times...I dunno. It's just a funny smell." Sex: a smell that Isaac is apparently not familiar with yet. Thank god.

"It's nothing, and even if it was something, it still wouldn't be any of your business. If you have time to worry about me you should spend it on training." Derek snaps, walking away like it doesn't affect him, like he isn't absolutely mortified to have been scented out by a pup. He was so blissed on pure Scott that he forgot he was surrounded by wolves. He can only imagine how this conversation will go with Peter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know the pacing is weird! Don't look at me! //>x/
> 
>  
> 
> (Also,  
> ...<3Daniel Sharman<3...  
> \@v@/)

**Author's Note:**

> Worth writing another chapter?  
> LMK


End file.
